


the heart is hard to translate

by ohprongs



Series: malec single parent aus [9]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: AU, Human AU, M/M, Single Parent AU, as always max is a lightwood and rafael is a bane, does it show that i know nothing about football other than 'don't pick up the ball', every time i type 'rafael' into the characters box 'rafael nadal' comes up which amuses me greatly, little league coach!magnus, minivan alec, sports AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-06 08:57:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11032917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohprongs/pseuds/ohprongs
Summary: or, the ‘you coach little league, my kid loves going and i love you’ au





	the heart is hard to translate

**Author's Note:**

> written for sports week of [shadowhunters au mondays](http://shadowhuntersaumondays.tumblr.com). late as usual, but my final (ever!) uni exam is tomorrow and time got away from me.
> 
> when i was doing my research like a good writer i found out that the ability to curve a ball around a line up of players forming a wall when taking a free kick depends on the magnus effect, which is fitting.
> 
> s/o to [ceci](http://daddariossmile.tumblr.com), [jay](http://softmagnusbane.tumblr.com) and [ali](http://isabellebiwoods.tumblr.com) for giving me dialogue prompts and to my #1 [elle](http://magnusragnor.tumblr.com), who let me go 'talk little league to me' without running away. minivan alec is for you <3
> 
> title from _all this and heaven too_ by florence  & the machine

“Dad,” Rafael grits out, “no.”

Magnus sends his son a look. “Go and get in position,” he says, holding the whistle around his neck between two fingers and lifting it to his lips. 

“ _ Dad, _ ” Raphael says again, tone close to whining. “He’s gonna miss.”

“Rafael,” Magnus says warningly, and Rafael goes to stand with the rest of the team with an award-worthy eye roll.

Max Lightwood stands a few meters away, hopping excitedly from foot to foot, looking down at the soccer ball just in front of him. 

“Ready?” Magnus calls to him. Max looks up at Magnus and grins, nodding. Magnus smiles back at him and blows his whistle.

Max runs the short distance to the ball and kicks it hard. It sails towards goal but stops a bit short, and Magnus sees Rafael race towards where it looks like it’s going to land. He kicks it between the legs of one of the opposing team then dodges around him to get back to the ball, and Magnus is unsurprised - but no less proud - when Rafael scores.

Max cheers loudly and celebrates with the rest of the team, Rafael pulling him grudgingly into a one-armed hug before quickly releasing him. 

Magnus blows his whistle again and waits for the players to return to the middle of the field. Gameplay continues for another ten minutes before the final whistle is blown. Rafael’s team celebrates exuberantly, but, ever the sportsman, Rafael still leads them in shaking the opposing team’s hands. 

Magnus blows his whistle and waves them back, and the kids gather around him in a circle.

“That was great, guys,” he tells them honestly. “You all did really well. Zoë, your offense was great and Madzie, your passing has gotten a lot better!” Magnus smiles widely at them all. “There’s water and lemonade on the side, as usual. I’ll see you all next Saturday. Good job, kids.”

The children disperse slowly, some lingering to chat with each other and others eager to get home. Max shuffles a little bit and eventually tugs on Rafael’s arm, striking up a conversation with him, and Magnus can’t help smiling at the scene.

It’s not Max’s fault that he’s so bad at soccer. If anything, it’s endearing, and he doesn’t let it get him down - he’s one of the most enthusiastic and determined kids Magnus has ever coached. It’s just unfortunate that while Max idolises Rafael, Rafael thinks having Max on his team is the worst thing that could ever happen to him in his eight years of living.

Magnus wanders over to the drinks table where a few kids are clustered, giving them high fives. Ragnor always says he never understands why Magnus voluntarily gives up his weekend to spend time coaching little league soccer - “ _ football _ , Magnus, for heaven’s sake” - but the self-satisfaction shining through the kids’ smiles makes it worth it, in Magnus’ opinion.

“Thank you for giving him a chance,” a voice says. Magnus glances up to see Alec Lightwood, Max’s dad, the man who runs the drinks stand without fail and the man who Magnus definitely does not have a crush on.

Honestly, he’s not in  _ high school _ anymore. But Alec does make his tummy all fluttery sometimes.

“Max deserves it as much as any of the others,” Magnus says, with an easy shrug. He steps a little closer - because of privacy, not so he can get close to Alec - and nods at where their sons are talking. Well - Rafael is idly kicking the soccer ball back and forth and Max is chattering away.

“Well, it means a lot to me,” Alec says, handing Magnus a cup of lemonade. Their fingers brush and the touch sends tingles all across Magnus’ body. “I know he’s…not the best at soccer. But I’m glad you don’t hold that against him.”

Magnus smiles. “We all have to start somewhere,” he says. Alec looks at him, all hazel eyes and gentle smiles. It’s something in Alec’s expression that makes the words fall out of Magnus’ mouth. “I could give him extra coaching, if he wanted.”

Alec’s eyes go wide. “Wow - I mean -” He clears his throat, looking Magnus up and down. “Are you sure you’d have time? You’re already giving up your Saturdays and I’m sure you’re very busy.”

Magnus hums, sipping some of the lemonade. “I am, but I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it,” says Magnus. “We could stay for an extra hour or so after practice, run through some drills, one on one.” 

Alec licks his lips, glancing over at Max and then back to Magnus.

“Why don’t you talk it over with Max and let me know?” Magnus offers.

Alec nods with the start of a smile, and then he makes a little noise. “I, uh.” His cheeks turn a faint pink. “Could I get your number? So I can - let you know?”

Magnus tries not to smile too hard.

∞

The following Saturday Magnus and Rafael arrive at Brooklyn Bridge Park a little early, as usual, to help set up the pitch. They cone off the area the kids all play in and set up the goals, and then Rafael goes to get changed into his kit. 

As a volunteer parent coach for the Park’s Youth Soccer League Magnus has access to the equipment storage, and he walks over to unload the bag of soccer balls. He hefts it over his shoulder - it’s not particularly heavy, just bulky - and carries it back to the pitch, and when he arrives Alec and Max are already there. 

“Hey,” Magnus greets, setting down the bag.

Alec blinks at Magnus a couple of times and licks his lips before speaking.

“Hey, Magnus,” he says. Max runs up to Magnus and Magnus holds his hand out for a fist bump.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna teach me to be good at soccer like Rafael,” Max says excitedly, bouncing on his toes. “Dad says you’re the best soccer player for miles and I should be really grateful you want to help me.”

Magnus can’t help smiling and raises a teasing eyebrow at Alec, who seems a little torn between embarrassment and amusement. He ends up shrugging at Magnus, smiling slightly.

“Well, I look forward to working with you,” Magnus says, and Max just grins at him. 

The message of confirmation from Alec had been fairly to the point, and Magnus hadn’t expected a text conversation to grow from it. But he and Alec have been texting on and off throughout the week, and while it started off about the details of the weekend’s practice, the last message he’d had was Alec sharing a picture of a cute dog he’d seen on his way home from work. 

Magnus is fairly sure Alec couldn’t get any more adorable if he tried.

After a few minutes the other kids begin to arrive, and the morning’s practice goes off without a hitch. It’s surprisingly warm for a late September day and Magnus ends up taking his jacket off, running around in just a tight white T-shirt and shorts after that.

When he dashes over to the drinks stand at half time to get some water, Alec’s face is rather red.

“Are you okay?” Magnus asks, frowning at Alec before taking a sip of his water.

Alec nods distractedly. “It’s probably the heat,” he says, before picking up a cup of water and downing it in one go. Magnus does not look at the bob of Alec’s throat as he swallows.

He  _ doesn’t _ .

∞

A couple of weeks later into the season, it's clear that Max’s extra lessons have been paying off. He might not be able to do the fancy tricks he watches Rafael do in awe, but he’s more confident running with the ball and passing, and his aim has definitely improved. 

When Max scores the winning goal of their match against another youth group, his team mates race towards him, lifting him up off the ground and cheering. Max’s eyes are shining brightly and he can’t stop grinning when he bounds over to Magnus. 

“I did it!” he exclaims.

“Yes, you did,” Magnus says, smiling back at him. There’s the tickle of hair against the back of his left arm and then Rafael is there, worming his way under Magnus’ arm and hugging Magnus’ waist.

“You got lucky,” Rafael says, burrowing his head into Magnus’ side.

Max’s expression wavers slightly and his eyes flick up to Magnus, as if for confirmation.

“No,” Magnus says, with a slight frown, “you’ve been working hard and practicing and it’s paid off. Raf, do you remember how it felt when you finally managed to do the Rivelino after weeks of trying?”

Rafael makes a vague noise and turns his head away from Max.

Magnus narrows his eyes slightly and then nods his head towards Alec, who is filling up cups of water. “Why don’t you go and see your dad, Max? I’m sure he’s gonna be super proud of you.”

Max nods and runs off. Alec meets him halfway, picking him up and whirling him around in the air, both of them with matching grins.

Magnus smiles at the sight before turning his attention to Rafael. He nudges his son and then peels Rafael’s hands away from his waist so he can crouch down to Rafael’s level.

“What’s up?”

Rafael stares sullenly at the ground, scuffing the grass with his booted foot. 

“Come on, kiddo. You can tell me, whatever it is,” Magnus cajoles, even though he already has a fair idea about what the problem is. Rafael remains silent. “You know, I think you hurt Max’s feelings by telling him it was luck that made him score the goal today.”

“But it was,” Rafael protests, speaking for the first time. He looks at Magnus with big brown eyes, bottom lip trembling. “He  _ sucks  _ at soccer and it’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair that he scored?” Magnus asks, taking Rafael’s hand in his own.

“It’s not fair he’s seeing you all the time and I’m not,” says Rafael blurts out, his eyes getting watery. “I don’t want him to be your favourite.”

Magnus’ heart shatters and he pulls Rafael into a hug. “He’s not going to replace you,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just because I’ve been helping him doesn’t mean I like him more than you, or that you’re not my priority. You always come first, Rafael, yeah? You’re my number one.”

Rafael nods and sniffles a little bit against Magnus’ shirt. After a moment he pulls back and taps the back of his shirt. “I’m actually number seven,” he says, and when he starts giggling at his own joke Magnus can’t help laughing loudly with him.

“I love you, Dad,” Rafael says, snuggling against Magnus’ shoulder again.

Magnus squeezes Rafael tighter. “I love you, too.”

∞

After that, Rafael is much happier to help out at Max’s extra practice sessions. He always picks Max first whenever they choose teams, so much so that it gets to the point where Magnus has to ask him quietly to maybe choose one of the other children once in a while.

Rafael has taken Max under his wing, the little brother he never had, and Magnus can’t help watching them fondly whenever he sees them playing together. Seeing Rafael coach Max as best he can reminds Magnus why he’d come back to soccer, a sport he’d loved in college, captaining the team, but fell out of playing after Rafael was born.

As soon as Rafael started toddling people used to joke around with Magnus that he’d be the next soccer star, but Magnus never wanted to push Rafael into following in his footsteps. He’d wanted Rafael to choose - and he had, choosing the game that they both love.

It’s also not like Magnus  _ minds  _ that the boys wanting to play together means he gets to spend more time around Alec. He supposes someone has to do it.

Magnus stands on the edge of the pitch, watching Rafael and Max do dribbling drills, and Alec wanders over to him when he gets off the phone to his sister.

“Hey,” Alec says, brushing the small of Magnus’ back, a smile on his face. He’s wearing a black tank top that, frankly, should be illegal, and he stands a whisper too close to Magnus for it to be casual. “I have an idea to run past you.”

Magnus lifts a brow. “Fire away.”

“Well,” Alec begins, “it’s been great seeing Max make so many friends here, but it’s the end of the season soon. I was thinking we could maybe do something to celebrate.”

“I’m always up for a party,” Magnus says, starting to smile. “What did you have in mind?”

“Something low key,” Alec says, shrugging. He messes up his hair absently, squinting at where Max and Rafael are playing on the field, and Magnus tamps down on the urge to ask if he, too, could run his hands through Alec’s hair. “A pizza party, maybe? I’m happy to bring the kids back - I’ve got room in the van.”

“The van?” Magnus asks, amused. 

Alec blinks at him. “My minivan.”

Magnus opens his mouth and then closes it, looking away from Alec to Max and Rafael, who seem to be racing each other to get back to their parents.

He fancies someone who owns a  _ minivan _ . 

Dear God. Ragnor isn’t going to let this go.

Rafael thumps into Magnus, declaring himself the winner, and Max catches up with him only a moment later. They’re both sweaty and pink-cheeked and grinning, and Magnus shares a happy smile with Alec at the sight of the pair.

“Are you gonna play, Dad?” Rafael asks, tugging on Magnus’ hand.

Magnus checks the time on his phone. “I guess we could play for half an hour,” he suggests. “One on one?”

Rafael nods eagerly and dashes off to get a ball. Magnus chances a coy glance to the side. 

“Unless you’d like to play two v two?” he asks, cocking his head at Alec. 

Alec huffs a laugh and rubs at the back of his neck.

“Please, Dad?” Max asks, looking up at Alec with doe-eyes. Alec looks between Max and Magnus, a smile playing on his lips even as he sighs in defeat.

“Yeah, fine. Alright,” he says, shaking his head. Max gives a little cheer, and high fives Rafael when he returns.

“Which teams would you like to play?” Magnus asks, and before he’s even finished Max is speaking.

“I want Magnus,” says Max. “No offence, Dad.”

“Oh, thanks, buddy,” Alec says, mock-offended. He turns to Rafael and shrugs. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

But Rafael doesn’t pout or kick up a fuss like Magnus might have expected him to; instead, he beams and leads Alec by the hand to the middle of the pitch, which gives Magnus a whisper of suspicion, like Rafael knows something he doesn’t.

Magnus flicks the soccer ball up with his foot and catches it, then walks towards Alec and Rafael, Max in tow.

“You got game, Lightwood?” he calls, resting the ball on the forefinger of his left hand and spinning it.

Alec looks at the ball and then back at Magnus, a smile on his face. “Yeah, I got game,” Alec says, eyes twinkling.

“Okay,” Magnus says, looking Alec up and down, soccer ball still spinning.

“Yeah, let’s play,” Alec grins.

Max ends up winning the coin toss, and he passes the ball excitedly to Magnus, who tears off down the pitch with it. He can hear Rafael giggling as he chases behind Magnus, and to keep things a little fairer Magnus slows down a little. 

The two of them face off, Rafael going in for a couple of attempts to steal the ball, both of them grinning. This is familiar and right to the pair of them, something they’ve been doing for years. Magnus is so caught up in defending the ball from Rafael that he doesn’t notice when Alec comes up behind him and steals it off him.

Rafael, of course, finds this hilarious. 

Max starts running after Alec, Magnus not far behind him. Alec is fairly close to the goal, but he seems to be lingering a little - there’s not much victory to be had in scoring against an empty net.

“Magnus, go in goal,” Max shouts, still running up to Alec. “I’m too little!”

Max, Magnus supposes, does have a point.

Alec manages to score, a cheeky grin on his face, but - in Magnus’ defence - he’s never played goalie before. Maybe once or twice at the start of his training, but it quickly became clear he was a perfect midfielder. 

Rafael and Alec set up a good run of passes when they restart after the goal, and they’re getting dangerously close to scoring again when Magnus tackles Alec for the ball and takes it off him.

The game dissolves eventually. Alec gets fouled for picking Max up and twirling him out of the way of the ball, and Magnus fakes an injury (which, he notices with only a little guilt, has Alec hurrying over to him worriedly and helping him up with gentle hands) so that Max can score. 

Rafael collapses against Magnus at the end of the game, complaining dramatically about how he needs to sleep for seven hundred years. Magnus laughs and gives him a piggy back over to Alec and Max, who are waiting at the edge of the field.

“What was  _ that _ ?” Magnus asks Alec, lifting an eyebrow.

Alec shrugs, trying to look nonchalant, but his grin is kind of ruining the impression. “I, uh. I used to play in middle school,” he says.

Magnus looks Alec up and down. “No kidding,” he muses, setting Rafael down. Max volunteers to take all the soccer balls back to storage and asks Rafael to go with him, who nods and starts walking with a suspicious amount of energy given how tired he’d just made himself out to be.

Alec smiles at him. “Hey, I was thinking,” Alec says, hands dancing in the air as he talks, “if you’re not busy now, we could - well, we could maybe take the boys to see a movie, or something. My treat.”

“Yeah,” Magnus says happily, “I think they’d like that.” His gaze stops on Alec, who’s watching him closely. “Besides,” Magnus says, allowing his tone to dip into flirty teasing, “if the movie’s boring, we can always sneak away and make out in the back row.”

Alec doesn’t scoff or laugh or brush it off like Magnus is expecting. His eyes flicker to Magnus’ lips, and then he looks right at Magnus, gaze full of something like promise.

“Careful,” he says, “I’ll hold you to that.”

∞

After the final practice of the season, Alec helps a bunch of the kids into his minivan for the pizza party. A couple of others are getting dropped off later, and Magnus and Rafael take the subway home before heading back out to Alec’s place. 

Rafael’s been a few times before, but Alec’s always driven him home afterwards, so it’s the first time Magnus has visited the brownstone where Alec and Max live.

Raf hops up the steps out front, tugging Magnus along behind him. Magnus rings the doorbell and they’re greeted by Max, who is slurping up a smoothie. 

“Hey, Raf,” he says happily, standing back to let them in. “Hello, Magnus.”

Once they’ve taken their shoes off Rafael shows Magnus through to the kitchen, where most of their little league group is crowded, eating pizza and dancing to cheesy pop songs.

Alec, who has three kids hanging off his arm trying to get him to dance, looks up with something like relief in his eyes when he spots Magnus.

“Help yourself to food,” Alec says as he walks over, handing Rafael a paper plate. Rafael thanks him, smiling, and heads over the table, launching straight into a conversation with Max and Madzie. 

Alec glances at Magnus and then nods to the table. “I wasn’t sure what your thoughts on leftover pizza and fries were, so I thought we could have prawn linguine when the kids are watching a movie,” he says, shrugging slightly. 

Magnus smiles at him. “And here I thought your specialities were water and lemonade,” he says teasingly.

“You know, there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Alec says, lips quirking upwards. “I have many talents.”

Magnus hums. He bites away a smile and looks at Rafael, who’s giggling with his friends. “Do you think,” Magnus begins, keeping his voice light and his eyes on the children, “that you might give me a chance to learn these things about you?”

He can feel Alec’s eyes on him and chances a glance to the side. Alec is looking at him, sort of hopeful and a little unsure.

Magnus inhales and exhales a measured breath. “Maybe over dinner at a fancy restaurant?”

Alec breaks into a blinding smile. “Like a date?” he asks, still smiling.

“Yeah,” Magnus clarifies, smiling back at him. “Will you go on a date with me, Alec?”

“I’d really like that,” Alec says, a hint of pink playing in his cheeks, his expression mighty pleased. “I’d - yeah. Yeah.”

He’s still staring at Magnus, smiling, slightly awed, when Max tugs him away to deal with some pizza-related emergency. Magnus watches Alec fondly, before propelling himself forward and talking to the crowd of kids.

Once they’ve all finished their food, Magnus and Alec bundle them into the living room in front of the TV. Magnus lays out blankets and cushions for them to sit on while Alec chairs the debate about which Disney movie they’re going to watch.

After the kids have settled on the movie and everyone’s happy, Magnus takes the opportunity to spend some time alone with Alec. He makes his way towards the kitchen, stopping when he sees Alec leaning against the doorframe between the two rooms, watching everyone in the lounge with a small smile on his face. 

When Alec catches sight of Magnus coming towards him, he lifts an eyebrow and pushes off the doorframe, but remains in the doorway so that Magnus has to brush past him to get to the kitchen. The two of them set about making their own food, making easy, animated conversation.

Alec starts humming off-key to one of the songs blaring from the TV at one point, and Magnus has to stifle a laugh behind his hand. Alec turns around, holding the pan of pasta, a towel draped over his shoulder, and stops humming when he sees Magnus.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asks.

Magnus returns to the mixture of prawns, garlic, lemon and chilli frying in front of him. “No,” he says, trying to appear innocent.

Alec makes a disbelieving noise. Magnus hears the clank of the pasta pot being placed down on the table, and then Alec is right behind him, peering over his shoulder to look into the frying pan. 

“I think they’re done,” Alec says, and Magnus can feel Alec’s breath on his ear. 

Magnus turns, facing Alec, tilting his head up just slightly. Alec blinks at him, lips parting, and they’re so close Magnus can feel the heat of Alec’s body against his own. 

Alec slips his hand through the gap between Magnus’ arm and waist to turn the burner off, and then he’s resting his hand against Magnus’ side, a gentle caress of fingers against Magnus’ shirt.

Magnus presses closer and Alec ducks his head down the tiniest bit to kiss him, soft and searching. Alec’s lips are warm against his and everything else around Magnus melts away; all he can do is focus on the softness of Alec’s hair under his hands and the press of Alec’s fingers on his waist.

Eventually, Alec pulls back, though he lingers close to Magnus, their noses brushing. Magnus blinks slowly at him as the world comes rushing back in.

“When -” Alec’s voice is lower than Magnus has ever heard it and he clears his throat. “When are you free for that date?”

Magnus smiles and slides his hand from Alec’s hair to cup his jaw. “How does Friday sound?” he asks.

Alec nuzzles into Magnus’ hand and presses a kiss to his palm. “Friday is perfect,” he says. 

“Dad?” 

Magnus pulls apart from Alec, turning to see his son rubbing at his eyes. 

“M’tired,” Rafael mumbles right before yawning widely, and Magnus’ heart swells. He can’t help smiling.

“Okay, Raf,” he says. He glances up at Alec, who nods at him with understanding and steps back. Magnus gestures to the food they’ve made, but Alec speaks before he can say anything.

“It’s okay,” Alec tells him, smiling. “I can save it for later. If you need to go, you can.”

Magnus squeezes Alec’s hand in gratitude. He turns to Rafael. “Go say goodbye to the others and put your shoes on, okay? I’ll meet you by the door.” 

He can’t help smiling at the way Rafael drags his feet out of the kitchen. Magnus looks back to Alec for a moment.

“Sorry to cut this short,” Magnus says, wincing slightly.

“It’s okay,” Alec says again. “I get it.”

Magnus nods, knowing that Alec does understand. 

“So, Friday?” Magnus asks, taking a few steps back from Alec but still holding both of Alec’s hands. 

Alec’s answering smile is almost blindingly bright. “I can’t wait.”

**Author's Note:**

> u can always chat 2 me on tumblr @[lightwoodlesbians](http://lightwoodlesbians.tumblr.com) <3


End file.
